Last Request
by Idiosyncratic-Silence
Summary: When Spock makes a rare mistake, the consequences are beyond what either he or Jim could have expected. K/S slash.


**Title:** Last Request  
**Pairing:** K/S  
**Warnings:** Major angst; slash; character death  
**Summary:** When Spock makes a rare mistake, the consequences are beyond what either he or Jim could have expected.  
**Word Count:** 2570  
**Disclaimer:** Trust me, if I owned Star Trek, the movie would have involved even more UST and lots of kissing.  
**Author's Note:** OK, folks, I'm ill with the 'flu and this idea just would not let me go. Since I had nothing better to do, I wrote this in all of half an hour... Forgive any grammar and spelling mistakes, for this hasn't been beta-ed.

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**Last Request**

_The Emperor of the Tallenyaki looked down at Spock with all the disdain that only a royal could. "Commander S'chn T'gai Spock; you are hereby sentenced to death by execution squad, at oh-nine hundred hours tomorrow. Have you any last requests?"_

Spock kept his gaze directly ahead and his hands clasped behind his back, wondering idly why the Emperor should even bother to ask. "I wish to see Captain James Tiberius Kirk."

That had been four hours ago, and still Jim was nowhere to be seen.

Spock had to wonder at the fairness of the universe. How could it be that Jim – wonderful, tactless Jim – could cause numerous diplomatic disputes and still continue to serve as a Starfleet captain, while Spock makes one mistake and is sentenced to death? It was unlike Spock to make mistakes, for everything was calculated and checked down to the final, insignificant point, but just this time… It was obvious that Jim was affecting him more than he had realised. Had he let Jim make the mistake, they would both be back on the Enterprise flying away as fast as the thrusters could go while Doctor McCoy tended to the captain's rather insignificant injuries. As it was, he had stepped in. He had stepped in, made the mistake instead of Jim, and was going to die for it.

Though, as he thought this, another notion struck him. Dying for the one you love could never be a mistake.

After what seemed like forever and a day, there was a harsh rap on the thick, metal-riveted door. Spock immediately stood up beside his tattered, blanket-less cot and stared at it with an insistence that would scare even the bravest of soldiers. He could hear the angry tones of Jim on the other side of the door, yelling at guards and officers with all the authority he could muster. Spock hardly repressed a smile at the tenacity of his captain – his closest, dearest friend – before the door was slammed open. The usual guards entered first, striding over to Spock to fully restrain him with heavy titanium cuffs, before they allowed Jim inside.

The first thing Spock noticed was that Jim looked haggard. His beautiful golden hair was messed and tangled, sticking up in all directions rather than lying neatly. The deep sapphire pools of his eyes were shadowed and ringed with purple, betraying exactly how little sleep the man had received in the past few days. Even his clean-shaven face was showing the beginnings of soft stubble, marring the smooth perfection of his skin. And despite the way he lit up at the sight of Spock, the worry was clearly there – crawling beneath the surface of his skin like a deadly parasite.

Spock, as usual, showed little reaction as Jim ran to him, allowing the man to loop his arms around him without complaint. Currently unable to move his own arms, he merely pressed as close into Jim's touch as he possibly could, burying his head in the crook of the shorter man's shoulder to inhale his soft, distinctive scent. Jim did nothing but hold him.

A few moments passed like this before the guards left them, their cold black eyes glaring at the pair in nothing short of disgust. Spock realised that he did not care; as long as he had his Jim, his _t'hy'la_, here with him, nothing was wrong with the universe at all. The sound of the door closing and locking once more was what caused Spock to move again, straightening slowly and reluctantly out of Jim's embrace. Jim looked at him, hurt shining in his eyes, until Spock's expression shifted from his usual mask of indifference into one of affection; of utter devotion; of full-blooded, never-ending love. Only then did Jim smile, the movement never reaching his eyes.

Spock sat back down on his bed, resting his back against the grey breezeblock wall, and motioned for Jim to sit beside him. Jim did not hesitate to do so, collapsing with illogical grace next to the half-Vulcan. Spock raised his cuffed hands from their position on his lap and looped them around Jim, pulling the human impossibly close to him. Jim snuggled next to him, lifting his head to briefly connect their lips. It was only a peck, not like most they shared, but it was enough.

They sat in silence for a long while, Jim's head resting on Spock's warm chest, until the former finally spoke. "Spock," he whispered quietly. "I'm sorry."

Spock hummed quietly, a sound that Jim had come to recognise as his suppressed laughter. "You have no reason to apologise, Jim," he replied sincerely. "I should not have intervened as I did. This is entirely my fau-"

"Don't you _dare_ blame this on yourself, Spock!" Jim complained, poking the muscled Vulcan torso with his index finger. "I shouldn't have gotten us into this mess in the first place!"

"You were merely following orders, Jim, and for that I commend you."

"Following orders my ass! I didn't read the paperwork, and I didn't listen to Uhura either, and I know I should've done, coz then you wouldn't be here!"

"Jim," Spock said, in a tone that signified that there was to be no arguing. "It is my duty, as your First Officer, to correct you when you make a mistake; but it is my duty, as your _t'hy'la_, to prevent you from making the mistakes in the first instance. It is my duty, as your First Officer, to provide logical defence for you should you be put on trial; but it is my duty, as your _t'hy'la_, to be put on trial in your place. It is my duty, as your First Officer, to rescue you should you encounter danger; but it is my duty, as your _t'hy'la_, to face the danger instead of you." He kissed the top of Jim's head softly at this, his dark eyes closed. "I was merely doing my duty, Jim."

Jim made a strange sort of sniffling sound, and Spock felt the telltale drops of tears falling upon him. Neither party said a word, but Spock hugged Jim tighter as he cried. Finally, as Jim looked up into Spock's fathomless eyes, five words left his lips:

"I can't lose you, Spock."

Spock did not, could not, _would_ not, reply, for Jim kissed him at that very moment. Lips moved together with instinct borne from long-term intimacy, noses bumping softly together as Jim desperately tried to close the non-distance between them. Impossibly-hot pressed against pleasantly-warm as tongues danced together, stroking over oh-so familiar territory. Jim's fingers were tangled in Spock's impeccable space-black hair, brushing so lightly against the tips of his pointed ears that it could have been a ghost's touch. Sad little moans flowed through them both, unable to decide which of them the sound had originated from as it tumbled and echoed around the still, silent room.

And in the middle of all this, Spock allowed himself to cry.

The pair pulled away from each other only for one of them to lean back in, pressing kisses endlessly upon each other's swollen lips as they took advantage of their last moments together. Eventually, however, Spock turned his face away from Jim's to signify the end, turning back seconds later to rest his forehead against his partner's. They stayed like that for countless minutes, eyes closed but still inexplicably connected. Heavy, panted breaths mingled together in the centimetres of space between them, chests heaving to touch for the briefest of moments before falling away from each other again.

More time passed, but the pair did not notice. They were together; the passage of time did not matter, even to Spock. Ultimately, words whispered around them.

"Jim," Spock murmured.

"I'm here, Spock," Jim replied breathlessly, finally deigning to open his too-blue eyes. "I'm here."

"Jim, it is imperative that you listen," Spock said, dark lashes flickering. "I must… it is necessary to…" He swallowed, and another tear slid down his flawless cheek.

"Shhh, Spock, shhh," Jim comforted, reaching up to wipe away the salty droplet with a sweep of his thumb. "It's fine, I'm here."

Spock opened his chocolate-brown eyes then, and Jim could see the pure, unmatched sorrow that emanated from them. "I must sever our link."

Jim pulled back, his expression one of utter shock. Spock had told him about the fundamental importance of the bond, just after they had forged it during their first night of heated passion. "What? B-but… _no_! You _can't_, Spock!"

"I must."

"But –"

"Listen, Jim," Spock said severely, and Jim obeyed. "I do not wish to separate you from me. You are as vital to my survival as nutrition, if not more so, but if I am to die tomorrow it is a necessary measure. The pain of being connected to one's _t'hy'la _as they die cannot be described in any language. My father attempted to when I visited the colony, and he did not succeed. No one has ever been able to." He swallowed again, averting his gaze from Jim's. "I do not wish to cause you such indescribable pain, and if this is the only way to prevent that then I shall do so."

Jim was utterly speechless. "But _Spock_," he whispered, feeling his heart breaking even as his voice did.

Spock shuddered at the wave of emotion from his captain, but he did not back down. "Do not worry, _t'hy'la_," he assured gently, slowly lifting his bound hands over his partner's head. "You shall not feel anything."

And before Jim could protest, Spock pinched the pressure point at the base of his neck.

Jim's eyes widened in shock for the briefest of moments, mouth falling open as he tried to cry out; he collapsed into unconsciousness before he could do so, and Spock caught his falling body effortlessly. Kissing Jim's forehead with such expressive tenderness, he stood and laid the human's dead weight onto the bed. Spock did nothing for a few long seconds, looking at Jim with unmatched love while tears that he was too stubborn to shed shone in his eyes. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before he lightly pressed his fingers to the meld points on Jim's temple.

"My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts," he managed to choke out, before he tumbled into the illogical mind of his mate.

Though Jim's consciousness was complaining loudly, struggling against the grip of the body's lack of response, Spock ignored it to seek out their bond. A silver trail of gossamer consistency threaded endlessly between the two men, entwined with splashes of gold and whispers of bronze, whilst incessant emotions darted across them like electricity down a copper wire. _Worryangerlove_ echoed from Jim, the objections loud and clear in Spock's head as his own _sorrowdistressdevotion _jumped back across.

_'I'm sorry, Jim. I'm sorry, my_ t'hy'la. _I love you.'_

And then, with a heart-wrenching crack, Spock broke the bond.

As he had promised, Jim felt nothing. Spock, however, could hardly believe the tidal wave of agony that splashed over him. His fingers slid from Jim's temple as he clutched at his own head, howling in agony while falling to his knees. He could not stop screaming; the ache inside his head could not be controlled, and he curled himself into a foetal position as he twitched wildly. He was vaguely aware of Jim waking up and dropping to his knees beside him, bawling his name over and over in an illogical human effort to help him.

"Jim!" was all Spock could say, a never-ending mantra hidden within the screams. Green blood leaked from his ears, his nose, his eyes; Jim was shaking him, kissing him, calling for help with emerald-stained lips; and then he was gone, dragged away from Spock's writhing body by the impassive guards.

"Spock!" he shouted through tears, and suddenly the Vulcan turned his deep brown eyes towards him. Jim yelled again, trying to get to him, but the latter shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"Goodbye, Jim," Spock breathed, blackness crawling at the edge of his vision. And then he was lost to the unfathomable depths of unconsciousness, his troubled dreams filled with screams and kisses and agony.

* * *

When Spock finally awoke, Jim was nowhere to be seen. His mind still pounded with vestigial pain from the day before, his wrists were still cuffed, and he still lay on the floor, but the room was utterly devoid of sound. Exhausted from trauma, he did not move until he heard the door creak open, once more revealing the guards. He tried to sit up, but it was in vain; his body was just too weak to obey his mind's commands, and he relied upon the guards to pull him roughly to his feet.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur. Spock knew he was being taken to die, but he kept drifting in an out of awareness as they moved. The strength of the alien guards surpassed his own in his time of weakness, so by the time they had reached the courtyard he had not even managed to attempt an escape. The jeers of the crowd reached his ears and he looked around him, taking in the masses of purple-skinned Tallenyaki with impassive eyes.

They could not hurt him; not now he had lost Jim.

At the centre of the courtyard stood two posts, bloodstained and covered in fingernail scratches from the previous occupants, but Spock ignored them. It was the people surrounding them that he watched; almost the entire crew of the Enterprise was gathered there, many of them watching with tearful gazes. Lieutenant Uhura was stood beside her close friend, Nurse Chapel, crying whilst keeping her head held high; then Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu, the latter holding the sobbing former with the calm affection that Spock himself had experienced; Lieutenant Commander Scott and his assistant, the diminutive Keenser, were watching him in something akin to respect, their eyes shining with tears that they, as engineers, considered themselves too proud to release; and, finally, Doctor McCoy, standing next to none other than Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

Spock's heart fluttered again at the sight of Jim, standing straight-backed and proud even whilst his pink-tinged cheeks were wet with tears. The old, familiar feeling of utter adoration washed over Spock as their gazes connected, despite Jim being an illogical human and Spock being a logical Vulcan. The complete opposite to him, and yet his _t'hy'la_… but he could not call him that any more. Not truly.

They kept looking at each other as the guards chained him to the post, as the Emperor once more repeated his crime, as another guard approached him with a blindfold. And although Spock voiced his protestations loud and clear, they covered his eyes and severed his connection with Jim once more. He curled in upon himself for the briefest of moments, his long fingers clutching aimlessly at the air, before he straightened back to his tall, Vulcan posture. He refused to die looking like a coward, even if inside his strangely-empty mind he was aching to break down and sob.

He heard the clicks of the phasers as the line of aliens readied them, sensed the stiff silence descend over the crowd of thousands. He took his chance.

"I love you, Jim."

A choking sound finally wormed its way past Jim's lips, a half-sob. "I love you too, Spock," Jim replied thickly.

Then the phasers fired, and Spock knew no more.

**Finis**


End file.
